


Day 15: Yoga!Verse "Downward Facing Dean"

by emmyloo03



Series: Destiel Smut Brigade AU Challenge [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drug Use, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, M/M, Marijuana, cas is super bendy, drunk yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2314478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyloo03/pseuds/emmyloo03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance encounter at Dean's Auto Shop brings Dean and Cas together for the first time outside of yoga.</p><p>"Dean had caught glimpses before in class, but this was the whole enchilada before him, and he ran his hands over Cas’ chest while the man struggled to get his shirt all the way off."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 15: Yoga!Verse "Downward Facing Dean"

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd
> 
> Trigger warnings: contains marijuana use and infidelity 
> 
> Special thanks to Adele who kept me going while I hammered this out in the wee hours of the morning.

The weeks passed fairly steadily. Dean maintained that the yoga was definitely more Lisa’s deal, but he was beginning to notice that some poses were getting easier to hold and that he needed few modifications. He also started to notice that he had fewer aches and pains after working a shift at the auto shop. That didn’t stop him from occasionally doing a pose wrong in the hopes that Cas would come over and correct him, though. One especially memorable time involved Warrior two pose and Cas’ hand on Dean’s inner thigh, grasping and pulling his weight more forward while his other hand grasped his shoulder while Dean’s arms were outstretched, one in front of him and the other reaching behind. He had felt those hands like a brand on his skin for hours afterwards. That night he’d woken Lisa up moaning in his sleep. He’d feigned a nightmare about Sam and the accident, but he could tell she didn’t buy it, not completely. The next morning he made her and Ben waffles to make up for the lie.

Dean was closing up shop, his mind preoccupied with thought of Cas and that scruff that made him forget anyone else was in class, when a tow truck pulled up with a lime green Pinto on the flatbed. He wiped his hands on a rag and moved to greet the customer as they climbed down from the tow truck cab. He stopped short as a pair of familiar blue eyes met his. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.” Dean stammered out. “You having some car trouble?” He winced and silently berated himself. Of course the guy was having car trouble! His car was on the back of a tow truck, for christ’s sake. He tried very hard not to notice how well the blue button down brought out his eyes, or the way the baggy black cargo pants left way too much to the imagination. Cas had the sleeves of the button down rolled up, revealing toned and tanned forearms, and Dean nearly whimpered at the sight.

Cas chuckled, obviously noticing Dean’s awkward conversation with himself. 

Dean ran a hand down his face, determined to find one ounce of cool to draw from before he made an even bigger ass of himself. 

The tow truck driver walked around the front of his truck and handed a clipboard to Cas to sign. “Hey, Dean. You want me to put her right here?” He pushed his ballcap back with a swipe of a bandana across his forehead. “Its hot as balls today, huh.” He scratched his beard before straightening his cap and taking back the clipboard from Cas.

“Oh, hey Bobby. Yeah, it was a scorcher alright. I’m looking forward to a shower and a few cold ones later on.” Dean tried to appear like he wasn’t looking at Cas when he said that, as the idea of chilling on his couch with Cas and a few beers suddenly seemed like the best idea ever. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at his shoes. He didn’t get it. He barely knew the guy, and yet he couldn't stop thinking about him. 

Bobby grunted an affirmative, tossed his clipboard back into the cab of his truck, and started offloading Cas’ oddball car.

“Uh yeah. Anyway, Cas, I’ll get back to you tomorrow if that’s ok. I won’t be able to get your baby up on a rack until the afternoon, probably.” Dean guided Cas away from the tow truck and its moving flatbed with a hand on his arm. He dropped his hand and stuck it in the pocket of his overalls, skin tingling from the warmth of Cas’ arm.

“That’s fine, Dean. Lisa gave me your number, said you’re very good with cars. It’s been modified to run on vegetable oil, by the way, I hope that’s not a problem.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Of course it was. “Let me get your number and then I’ll call you, ok?”

Cas fidgeted for a moment, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t suppose you would mind giving me a ride? I mean Lisa said it would be cool, something about she has to be at Ben’s school for something and to not worry about rushing home for dinner? I don’t want to impose though, so I can just call a cab if that’s a problem.”

Dean had to tamp down the giddy butterflies that suddenly erupted in his belly. He had fantasized about getting a moment alone with this really hot guy and now that it might happen he felt like he was going to throw up. What the hell was wrong with him?

Realizing he had gone several moments without answering the other man, he blurted out something to the affirmative and suggested Cas wait in his tiny waiting room off the shop while he finished up. Bobby helped him push the Pinto into the bay and tipped his hat once more before climbing into his truck. He couldn’t help but mutter to himself about a “pair of idjits dancin’ around one another” as he watched in the sideview mirror while Dean give himself a pep talk before heading back into his shop as Bobby drove away.

Dean busied himself with shucking his overalls, leaving him in jeans and a Van Halen tee, and washing his hands with gritty soap to remove the last of the grease and grime on his hands. He was not happy to discover that he had had a good sized smudge on his cheek, acquired right before Cas showed up, he was certain. He rolled the bay doors shut and led Cas across the lot to where the Impala was parked. Dean wiped his clammy palms on his pants and tried not to think about how bad he must smell as he slid into the car and reached over to unlock the passenger door. Cas got in and followed Dean’s lead of rolling the window down all the way. The car’s black interior and leather were uncomfortably hot and Dean wasted no time starting the car and pulling away, hoping to the air flowing as he drove. Cas rattled off the directions and they drove a few moments in an awkward silence before Dean switched on the tape deck. Music blared out of the speakers before he could turn down the volume to a more respectable level and Cas chuckled.

Dean glanced over at him, “AC/DC ok for you?”

“Of course Dean. I was just imagining you rocking out with the music on your way to work this morning. I’m sure it is quite the show.”

Dean blushed to his hairline. “Oh yeah? I suppose you listen to music with lots of flutes and chanting or something.”

Cas smirked and replied archly, “I have been known to dabble in Tibetan Throat Singing, but I generally prefer more contemporary, Western style music for my morning commute.”

“What’s Tibetan Throat -- you know what, nevermind. As long as you don’t like Justin Bieber, we’re cool. “

“Why Dean, I’m crushed! “Baby” is a lyrical masterpiece and easily one of the best songs of the decade.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open and he shot Cas a look of pure horror. The other man was staring at him, eyebrow arched and a half smirk on his face. 

“Oh man, you really had me going there.”

They rode the rest of the way to Cas’ in companionable silence. As Dean pulled up to the curb in front of Cas’ house, the nerves returned though. He desperately hoped Cas would ask him inside, and at the same time he was terrified of what might happen if he did. Dean cut the engine anyway, and shifted in his sit slightly, opening his profile up to Cas, who was also turned slightly towards him. Dean fiddled with the key in his hand and cleared his throat.

“So, um, I guess I’ll see you --”  
“Dean, would you like to come in for a beer?”

They spoke at the same time and it took Dean a moment to register that Cas had invited him in.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”  
“Well, if you have to go --” 

They both laughed. Dean raised his hand slightly, palm towards Cas. “I’d love a beer, Cas.”

Dean followed Cas up the walkway and into his modest house. His decor was pretty minimal; inexpensive with clean lines and an abundance of color in pillows and tapestries on the wall. There was a two foot Buddha statue in the corner with a small bench in front of it. Cas lit an incense stick and stuck the end in a bowl of rice on the bench. Dean expected a cloying, noxious smell, but it was subtle as the smoke pervaded the room. Cas moved through a doorway into the kitchen and came back with two beers. He handed one to Dean and clinked their bottles together.

Dean took a long draught from the beer, draining half of it in one swallow. He watched Cas sit on one end of the couch and settle in, kicking off his shoes and leaning back into the cushions, comfortable in his own home. Dean moved to join him on the couch, perching as far away from the other man as possible. He fidgeted with the label on the bottle, peeling back one corner only to smooth it down and start on another corner. Cas spoke, startling him.

“I usually roll a joint first thing when I get home. I hope you don’t mind.”

Dean scoffed, “I thought all you yoga guru types were supposed to be clean man. No booze, drugs, meat, sugar, etcetera.”  
“Its true, most people who practice yoga religiously abstain from all of those things. I prefer to imbibe in moderation. I tried giving up red meat, but I missed it too much. I indulge in a good cheeseburger once a month or so. As for the alcohol and drugs, a little beer and pot never hurt anyone,” Cas answered with a smile.

Dean gestured, “By all means, it’s your house.” 

Cas reached across the coffee table and pulled a small, wooden box over to himself and began removing the paraphernalia needed. Dean watched him roll the joint expertly in no time at all; he tried not to stare when Cas’ tongue darted out to seal the seam. 

“It’s been a long time since I smoked weed,” Dean said to distract himself. “Used to get high behind the gym with this kid named Don. Pretty cliche, I know.”

“I cultivated medicinal marijuana for years out in California. I liked the feeling of healing people, helping them, you know? I get that feeling teaching yoga too.” 

Cas lit the joint and gave it a few puffs before handing it over. Dean eyed it for a minute, then shrugged. What the hell, he thought, he was his own boss, not like anyone was going to drug test him anytime soon. He slipped the moistened tip between his lips, very conscious that Cas had had the joint in his own mouth just moments before. Dean took a few drags, filling his lungs near to bursting, before trying to hold the smoke in as he handed the joint back. He held on a few seconds longer, his eyes starting to water as he tried desperately to keep from coughing. He let the smoke out in a burst, almost spewing in forth as his body was wracked with a violent coughing fit. His eyes watered more and he took a long sip from his beer to soothe his burning throat. Cas reached over and rubbed circles on Dean’s back as he tried to recover from taking too much, too fast.

“Too greedy, Dean. Try again, but with smaller tokes this time.”

Dean took the proffered joint, about half its original size now, and puffed at it more slowly. His throat still burned, but he was able to control his coughing and he was already starting to feel the floaty effects.

They puffed away, passing the joint back and forth between them until it was too tiny to be held between their thumb and index finger. Dean, at this point, was sprawled on the couch, half a foot closer to Cas. He had removed his boots at some point and he was inches away from rubbing his foot against Cas’. They chatted about safe things; books, music, movies, and television. Dean teased Cas for not having a TV in his living room and Cas berated Dean for not having a meditation space in his. Cas refreshed their beers a few times and they shared another joint as the sun set and the first stars began to glow. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed with someone, not even Lisa. Cas whipped up some noodle thing that Dean was pretty sure contained tofu of some sort, but he ate it anyway.

Dean found himself talking about Sam and the car accident that put him in a coma for weeks. He shared his feelings about seeing his overgrown moose of a brother in a hospital bed with tubes and wires everywhere, keeping him alive. He’d only been dating Lisa a month or two when it happened and she had been like a rock for him. He told Cas how he felt guilty that Lisa had stayed by him throughout that whole ordeal and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to give her the love she deserved.

Cas was quiet while Dean talked. He didn’t offer any words of pity or rebuke, and instead shared his own story of a daughter taken by a wife who suddenly found God. How Amelia spirited Claire away from him and years of searching have produced nothing but multiple trails gone cold. 

Dean sat in silence, his own words hanging heavy in the air next to Cas’. It was obvious neither man had shared so much with anyone, let alone near perfect strangers, but between the mellow mood, the alcohol, and something burgeoning between them, each had confessed their sordid backstories.

With a sudden jolt of energy, Cas slapped his hands to his knees and stood up abruptly. He teetered a moment before righting himself. Dean stared up at him in confusion.

“You want to see something, Dean?”

Dean nodded, but Cas wasn’t really waiting for his go ahead. Cas began moving around the room, shoving the sparse furniture back to make the space in the center of the room wider. Cas unfurled a thick purple yoga mat on the hardwood floor and flopped down onto it. He stretched to touch his toes a few times while Dean watched before he laid back and then he was suddenly lifting his feet to touch behind his head, while supporting his back with his hands. He moved his arms, one at a time, to lay his elbows over the backs of his knees, bringing them to the floor. This put his ass in fairly close proximity to his own face. Dean stumbled around the table to get a better look. Cas was beaming up at him, a goofy smile on his face.

He spoke, his voice slightly muffled. “I could probably suck my own dick, Dean!”

Dean doubled over with laughter, his hands on his knees, gasping for air. “Oh my God, Cas you really could!” He straightened up slightly, his jaw lax and his eyes rounded, “Wait, have you actually tried before?” 

Cas unfolded himself and sat up, a smirk on his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Dean leaned over and shoved at Cas’ shoulder playfully, putting himself slightly off balance.  
Dean knelt onto the mat and grabbed at Cas’ hand. “Show me how to do one of those headstand things.”

Cas scooted back, demonstrating how he could balance his body on his forearms and head effortlessly. Even in his inebriated state, he never wavered.

Dean stared in awe, a quiet whoa escaping his lips. He wiggled with excitement and exclaimed, “Do me! Do me!” They both broke down in laughter, clutching at one another to stay upright.

Cas instructed Dean to get into Dolphin pose, similar to Downward Facing Dog, but resting on his forearms instead of his hands. Dean blushed, his first fantasy about Cas flashing in his mind. Cas told Dean to kick his legs up, he grabbed one as it was coming up, but missed the other one. Dean tried to raise it again, and instead succeeded in losing his balance and toppling over onto Cas in a tangle of limbs.

They were both laughing, but it slowly petered out as they both realized Dean was sprawled across Cas with his face smashed into the side of his neck. Cas had his arms around Dean, his hands resting on his hips. Dean lifted his head and met Cas’ soft gaze. He wore a look of contrition and shook his head at question he saw written across Cas’ face. Moving to push himself back and off of Cas slotted their hips together perfectly, however, and Cas’ attempt to bite back a moan failed. His hands tightened reflexively on Dean and Dean couldn’t help but gasp and roll his hips against Cas’. He dropped his forehead onto Cas’ with a groan. Tentatively, Cas’ fingers tightened and he bucked his hips up into Dean’s as they panted into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck it,” Dean growled, before slamming his mouth down onto Cas’s. His day old stubble rasped against Cas’ longer growth as tongues and lips and teeth met, sometimes with less than pleasurable results. Dean eased back ever so slightly. Knocking out a tooth was not on the agenda for the night. He threaded his hands into Cas’s hair, grabbing handfuls and holding on for dear life. Cas’ hands roved up and down Dean’s back before grabbing handfuls of Dean’s ass, pulling him even closer as they rutted against one another. 

Abruptly, Cas rolled them and settled himself between Dean’s legs. He grabbed one denim clad thigh and pulled it high to wrap around him as he drove his hips down onto Dean’s. Dean arched back with a moan, baring his neck to Cas, who pounced on the exposed skin. He licked and sucked and nipped, carelessly leaving marks in his wake. Dean slid his hand along Cas’ jaw to turn his head back and recapture his mouth. Their lips were spit-slick and swollen, raw where tracking along a jawline had abraded them. Cas pulled off Dean’s lower lip with a pop and leaned back, determined to get to more skin. He helped Dean shimmy out of his tee and moved to undo the buttons on his own shirt. With a growl, Dean slapped his hands away and ripped the shirt open, spraying buttons everywhere. 

“Sorry” he panted as he leaned up to push the ruined shirt over Cas’ shoulders, exposing a tanned torso. Dean had caught glimpses before in class, but this was the whole enchilada before him, and he ran his hands over Cas’ chest while the man struggled to get his shirt all the way off. He finally succeeded, flinging the garment aside as Dean’s thumbs flattened his nipples then teased them to fullness again. Cas hissed and grabbed Dean’s wrists, shoving them over his head as he leaned down for another searing kiss. Dean reveled in the feeling of their naked chests sliding against one another. He tried to free his hands, desperate to feel more of that smooth skin he’d only dreamt about but Cas held firm a moment. Dean whimpered into his mouth and Cas released him to cup his face in his hands. The kiss grew more tender and they slowed their frenzy to merely rubbing their lips together. Dean slid his hands around to dip below Cas’ waistband to grab handfuls of his ass. He whimpered again when he realized Cas wasn’t wearing underwear.

Cas leaned back, “Dean, Dean we can stop. We don’t have to…” He trailed off as Dean dipped a finger between his cheeks to rub against his dry hole.

“You kiddin’ me, Cas? I’ve been dreamin' of this for months. Ain’t no way I’m stoppin’ now,” Dean rasped out, his voice near as destroyed as Cas’. Cas groaned and arched into that questing finger. He reached between them to fumble with buttons and flies and Dean scrambled to help him, freeing himself with a flick of his wrist. The first slide of flesh on flesh was almost too much and Dean scrabbled for purchase on Cas’ hips as he moaned while Cas braced himself, his hands on either side of Dean’s head. 

“Oh fuck, Cas. Fuck, that’s good.”

Cas panted out his name over and over again as they slid together in a mix of sweat and precome. 

“C’mon Cas, I’m so close. C’mon baby,” Dean gritted out and Cas slipped his hand between them to grasp both their cocks in his hand. Dean arched up into the added pressure and came with a cry, shooting over both their bellies. Cas quickly followed suit, adding his spend to Dean’s. 

They both panted for a few moments before Cas got up and padded to the bathroom for a damp washcloth. He returned, his pants already buttoned and his torso cleaned off, to hand the cloth to Dean. Dean made short work of cleaning off and getting dressed. He found his shirt under the couch and tugged it on. He stood there for a moment, drinking in the sight of Cas in just his pants. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Look man,” he said “I like you a lot, but I don’t know what can really happen here. I gotta talk to Lisa. It isn’t fair to her to be with such a shitty person, who would cheat on her like this.”

Cas stepped forward and slid his hand up Dean’s shoulder to cup his jaw. He leaned in for a kiss. Dean sighed against his lips.

“Dean, you are not a shitty person. I may not know you all that well, but I could tell that from the first moment we met. You came to that class, even though you didn’t want to, to make Lisa happy. Yes we made a mistake, and I agree, coming clean is the best course of action. You owe it to Lisa and you owe it to yourself.”

Dean was touched by Cas’ words, but he was uncomfortable with his frankness, especially now that he didn’t have the barrier of smoke and drink to hide behind.

“Ugh, yeah ok Cas. Look, I’ll call you ok. Next couple of days.” And with that he was gone.


End file.
